


Gno-Man's Land

by muses_circle, xtremeroswellian



Series: Two Guys, a Girl and a Chevy Impala [3]
Category: Smallville, Supernatural
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, Gnomes, PTSD, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23919565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muses_circle/pseuds/muses_circle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtremeroswellian/pseuds/xtremeroswellian
Summary: "Sarah? It's Sam," he said, his heart skipping a beat."Sam?" she asked, trying to conceal her excitement at hearing his tenor voice. "Hey, are you in town?" She walked upstairs and into her office to get some peace and quiet."We are," he confirmed. "We just got a couple rooms at the motel. Are you at the auction house?"
Relationships: Chloe Sullivan & Sarah Blake, Chloe Sullivan/Dean Winchester, Past Chloe Sullivan/Clark Kent, Sam Winchester & Chloe Sullivan, Sam Winchester & Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester/Sarah Blake
Series: Two Guys, a Girl and a Chevy Impala [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722754
Kudos: 1





	Gno-Man's Land

"We're getting close," Dean shouted over the AC/DC blaring through the Impala's speakers. It had been a rough few days, he thought, trying to focus on the music instead of his ever-present thoughts. He hadn't said much to Sam in the way of what he'd said to Chloe, mostly because he was still pissed as hell over that.

As uncomfortable as it was with Sam, however, it was nothing compared to the sheer awkwardness of being in the same place with Chloe... knowing she knew how he felt about her... knowing she probably would never feel the same. It just didn't add up as being particularly fair for his team, but... He inwardly shrugged. There was nothing else he could do. He wanted her around, and he was trying to give her as much distance as she needed.

He glanced in the rearview mirror for the tenth time that day, smiling a little as she slept in the backseat.

Sam glanced at him sideways, then in the rearview mirror, seeing the same thing his brother saw. He sat up a little, and turned down the music a tad. "Dude, there's something I've been thinking..."

"That maybe you've learned to keep your cakehole shut?" he snarked slightly, his eyes straying back to the sign that said, "Hudson Valley 70 miles".

He shot Dean an impatient look. "About Chloe," he said in a hushed tone.

Glancing back into the rearview mirror to make sure she hadn't awoken at the sound of her name, he replied slowly, "Okay, what?"

Sam let out a breath. "I've been doing some research, Dean, and I think she may be suffering from PTSD."

"Post Traumatic Stress?" Dean asked, frowning though his eyes stuck to the road. "Because of the preacher's mojo on her?" Sam had been doing some homework, it seemed.

"She exhibits a lot of the symptoms," he said quietly. "And we still have no idea what exactly he did to her."

He was silent, lost in thought, for a moment. "You think she knows what the preacher dude said to her?" he wondered out loud, glancing back at her once more.

"I don't know, Dean," he said quietly, gazing out the windshield. "Did you hear her last night?"

If he could have closed his eyes, he would have at the memory of her cries, her yelling Clark's name over and over again. He'd wanted to wake her up and comfort her, but given present circumstances, he refrained. And listened in agony as she went through her nightmares. "Yes, Sammy," he ground out.

"She's exhausted. And she can't go on like this forever."

"Did you ever call Missouri?" Sam had never mentioned this point of fact, and if Chloe really had PTSD, then maybe Missouri was the only person who could help her.

"Yeah...I got the machine. I asked her to call back, but so far..." He shrugged.

"Dammit." Dean gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. he sent out a mental command towards Missouri, demanding that she call.... as if she could hear across the freakin' country, he thought. "Got any bright ideas on what to do in the meantime?" he whispered to Sam.

He drew in a breath. "Maybe one of us should try to convince her to see a doctor."

"It'd have to be you, Sam. I don't see her... wanting me too close to her." He felt a twinge of awareness that he was in a situation where he wasn't loved back, but he stepped on that thought immediately.

"I don't know that she'll listen to either of us."

"At least she still talks to you, dude. When I'm around..." He shook his head in frustration. "Damn him," he whispered to himself, cursing whatever horrors in her past that had put a permanent scar on her heart.

Sam glanced at him sideways. "You think this is more about... whatever happened in Smallville than evil preacher man?"

He stared straight ahead, not answering his brother's question. He knew Chloe's past was at the root of her issues. The insane preacher just programmed her so she'd never forget about them. Finally, after several moments, he nodded in quiet agreement.

"Great," he murmured, resting his head back against the seat. The likelihood of getting her to open up about whatever happened there was slim to none.

Clearing his throat, Dean abruptly changed the subject. "So you heard from Sarah since International Falls?"

"No." Sam rubbed his jaw and stared out the passenger side window, wondering how Chloe could possibly sleep through the blaring music.

"Great, so Sarah emails 'Come' and you say 'How quickly'?" He glanced in the backseat, a little grateful she was sleeping at the moment.

He glared at Dean. "Kinda like when Cassie called you?" he retorted.

Dean let out a short, sarcastic snort. "This coming from the guy who didn't wanna go out with Sarah to begin with."

"It's not about going out with her. She's in trouble." His glare intensified.

"Oh, and possessive. Gotta add that to the list." He moved the Impala off the interstate to the road leading to David Blake Auction and Estate House.

"Shut up, Dean," he said with a scowl, turning to look out the window once more.

"Hell no, Sammy. It's too funny watching you be pissy, especially when we're going to see your girl this time."

"Yeah, ‘cause mine's not asleep in the backseat."

"You're just jealous that she isn’t." Dean wasn't gonna deny that Chloe was his girl, because she was. She just didn't really know it yet.

Sam rolled his eyes, wondering if his big brother would ever actually grow up.

The rest of the trip was made in the relative silence of the music-filled car. Dean had decided to stop at the hotel they'd stayed at last time before hitting the auction, so when he pulled into the parking lot thirty minutes later, he turned off the engine and laughed softly. "Wonder if we're gonna get that disco room again."

Sam smirked and glanced at Chloe in the backseat. Somehow he had a feeling it'd take more than a disco room to help Dean out in that particular department. Climbing out of the car, he stretched his legs and drew in a deep breath. He couldn't help it. He was looking forward to seeing Sarah again. Even if she was in trouble.

Dean got out of the car and pulled the driver's seat back, gently nudging Chloe. "Hey, Chlo," he whispered. "Wake up. We're here." He used his free hand to pop the trunk.

Her eyebrows furrowed a little and she slowly opened her eyes, looking dazed for a moment. "Where are we?"

"Hotel. Hudson Valley. Where Sam's girl is." He leaned out of the car and walked around to get their gear.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's comment. "I'm going to get the rooms," he called, walking off in a hurry.

"Right," she murmured, slowly climbing out of the car and blinking a few times at the bright sunlight that invaded her vision. She moved around to the trunk to get her bags, flinching slightly when her cell phone began to ring in her purse.

Dean watched as Chloe pulled her cell phone out and flinched as she looked at the number. He wanted to ask who it was but refrained, pulling out their bags and slamming the trunk without a word. He walked towards Sam, who had left the hotel lobby with two sets of keys.

She stared at the number for a long time, then shut her eyes as she slowly lifted it to her ear. "What?"

Silence on the other line for a moment. "Chloe?" Clark Kent finally asked, shocked and surprised that she had answered the phone. "Hey..." His voice guilt-ridden and regretful, he tried to speak.

Her jaw clenched involuntarily, tears stinging her eyes at the sound of his voice. "What do you need, Clark?"

"Chloe, I... I need to... I'm sorry about..." He stumbled over his words, trying to find the right words to tell her just how badly he felt for... what he'd done.

"Don't," she cut him off, not wanting to hear an apology. Her shoulders were tense. "Just...don't, Clark."

"But I need to, Chloe. I'm sorry that I..." He swallowed hard, unable to even speak the words. "I could have really hurt you."

A tear trickled down her cheek. "Newsflash...you did," she whispered.

The intensity of her pain rippled through the phone and into Clark's head, making it pound... if it was possible. "I'm so sorry, Chloe. It was... it was the red-k. I... I didn't know what I was doing."

A bitter smile touched her lips. "Yeah. Clearly. Because I look nothing like Lana Lang, right? I gotta go."

"Lana? Wha --" Before he could utter another word, Chloe had hung up on him.

Meanwhile, Dean watched Chloe standing by the Impala, talking on her phone and growing more upset by the second. It had to be Clark, he thought, watching her hang up the phone and ram it into her purse, her face stony.

She held her breath in an attempt to postpone the breakdown she felt rapidly approaching. The last thing she wanted to do was break in front of Sam or Dean. Especially Dean. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she turned and slowly headed toward the motel lobby.

Seeing her run across the lot and into the lobby, Dean felt compelled to follow her. He took a step out the door to go after her.

"Dude. Don't." Sam's voice was loud from the other side of the room.

Dean stopped in his tracks and turned to look at his brother, who had gotten out his laptop and was pulling up something. "Oh, your ESP working overtime again?" he snapped in irritation.

"Just...give her a few minutes, man. She needs a breather," Sam replied, giving his brother a look.

Dean didn't comment, but simply turned to stare out the door again. He remained in his spot, however. "Any word from Sarah?" he asked, knowing his brother was checking his email. He smiled faintly. It'd be nice to have Sam happy again, he thought.

His eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah...apparently something stole a very valuable painting last night."

"Great, more paintings," he grumbled under his breath, feeling as stupid this time as he had the last time around. "Instead of a haunted painting, we've got something that actually wants them."

"Which is a step up. Hopefully. As long as there aren't any creepy little girls trying to stab me with a pair of barber's sheers." He rubbed his neck subconsciously, reading the email again.

"Oh, you know you enjoyed that time with Sarah," Dean joked sarcastically, mentally agreeing with him. "So you gonna call her or what?" He turned and gave Sam a pointed look.

He offered his brother a small, wry smile. "Yeah. I'll let her know we're here." He moved over to the phone by the bed, smirking at the fact they had indeed gotten the same damn room again.

"Good," he replied with a small smile, turning back to the door to watch for Chloe. Wondering what the hell she was thinking and whether he'd ever get through to her or not.

Feeling a little nervous, he picked up the phone receiver and dialed Sarah's number, hoping Dean didn't realize he had it memorized. 

Sarah had been listening to her father rant and rave over the missing portrait... something she was kind of glad was gone... when her cell chirped to life. She didn't recognize the number, so she flipped open her phone. "Sarah Blake," she answered, waving off her father.

"Sarah? It's Sam," he said, his heart skipping a beat.

"Sam?" she asked, trying to conceal her excitement at hearing his tenor voice. "Hey, are you in town?" She walked upstairs and into her office to get some peace and quiet.

"We are," he confirmed. "We just got a couple rooms at the motel. Are you at the auction house?"

She blew out a frustrated breath. "Unfortunately. Dad's been griping about that portrait of Douglas Fairbanks going missing. Personally, I hated it, but...” She swallowed hard and breathed in again. "It's good to hear your voice."

A faint smile touched his lips. "Ditto," he said softly. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, glancing at his brother, who was staring out the window, probably watching for Chloe. "When would be good for us to meet?"

She glanced at the clock. "Can we make it an hour? I have to try to weasel my way out of here first. When Dad's foaming at the mouth, it's hard to escape the fallout." She frowned at hearing him shouting from upstairs. "Are you at the same place as last time? I can meet you."

"Yeah, same place. Same room, in fact," he said with a short chuckle. "An hour sounds great."

"Fantastic," Sarah replied with a grin she hoped came through her voice. "I can't wait to see you again, Sam." He had no idea just how much she had.

He couldn't help the smile that spread across his own face at her words. "Me either. See you soon," he said softly, reluctantly hanging up the phone a minute later.

"She was flirting with you, wasn't she?" Dean asked with a smirk, having heard Sam's side of the conversation. He was beginning to wonder where Chloe was, as she had not yet appeared from the lobby door.

"Shut up," he said, though his voice was lighter than usual. "Where's Chloe?"

"If I knew that, I wouldn't say 'I have no idea'," he replied, rubbing a hand over his face. "I should go see if she's okay." He started out the open door.

"Yeah." Sam watched him go.

"When we meeting Sarah?" Dean asked, peeking his head back in the door and giving Sam a knowing smile.

"She's coming by in about an hour." He returned the smile and shook his head ruefully.

"So go get pretty, dude," Dean replied, seeing the smile and nearly laughing out loud. "I bet she's doing the same." With that parting shot, he walked off towards the lobby.

&&&&&

Chloe sat in the far corner of the motel lobby, curled up in a chair staring out the window blankly. Her eyes were red-rimmed from spending the last twenty minutes crying in the bathroom. She was oblivious to all that was going on around her, including the curious stares she was getting from the hosts at the front desk.

Running into the lobby, Dean was more than relieved to see she hadn't bolted. Ignoring the front desk staff, he quickly crossed the room to where she sat, tight as a ball in the corner, like she was trying to sink into the wall itself. "Chloe," he said softly, crouching in front of her and looking into her unseeing, red eyes. 

"We have rooms?" she asked dully.

"Yes, and I'll carry you to yours," he replied softly.

For some reason that made her eyes tear up once more. "I can walk," she whispered, slowly rising to her feet.

She looked wobbly on her feet, so Dean swept her up in his arms. "Shut up and let me carry you," he growled, holding her tightly to him as he walked for the door, nodding only to the person who held the door open so they could pass.

Chloe swallowed hard, shutting her eyes as he carried her toward a room. She didn't know if he was taking her to hers or his, and she didn't care. She rested her head on his shoulder.

Going into their room, as he'd left the door open, Dean called, "Sammy, open Chloe's door, dude."

Sam jumped at Dean's hard voice, having been lost in thought over seeing Sarah again. When he saw that Dean held Chloe, he nodded and grabbed her key, moving outside to unlock her door.

Dean swept by Sam, muttering his thanks before kicking the door shut behind him and laying her on the bed.

She exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to her face as her head pounded painfully. "Thanks," she murmured, keeping her eyes closed.

"Sure." He pulled the comforter over her body, trying to keep her from shaking like a leaf. He didn't think it was from the cool winter air, however. "I'd ask what was going on, but I think I know."

"Yeah?"

"It was someone from Smallville on the phone," he said in a sad voice. He didn't want to say the guy's name but instead shook his head and moving to sit at the foot of the bed.

"You're good," she murmured, shifting her feet a little so he could sit down.

Dean smiled faintly. "Yeah, I get lucky once in a blue moon." He watched her move to let him sit, but he suddenly found he couldn't. He stood up. "Look, I should probably let you sleep, unless...." He knew she'd have to open up eventually, but he reminded himself not to push her.

"Unless what?" she whispered.

He looked uncertain. "You wanna talk about it," he said slowly.

Chloe swallowed hard. "No."

"Didn't think so." He moved away from the bed and towards the door. "Get some sleep, okay? We're meeting Sarah in about an hour. You up for that?" He hoped she'd say no, from the standpoint of needing sleep badly, but at the same time, he wanted her to be a part of this hunt with him. It seemed... more important than usual.

"I'll be there," she murmured tiredly.

"Okay," Dean whispered, not certain if was relived or concerned by her response. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her while she slept, but that didn't seem to be the right thing to do. "I'll wake you in a little while, then."

"All right." She waited until she heard the door click shut. Then she buried her face into the pillow.

Dean returned to the other room and sat down on his bed, burying his face in his hands. It was going to be a long hour, he thought, and he hoped she got some sleep in the meantime. He didn't notice Sam's look in his direction.

"I'm guessing she's not all right."

"Nope, she's not," he told Sam.

He sighed softly. "I uh...printed some stuff out I thought you might wanna read." He picked up a stack of pages and handed it over to him.

"What is all this?" he asked, looking up at his brother, grateful for the distraction. He scanned several pages. "Signs of PTSD? Symptoms? How to Help Someone with PTSD?" He put them down and looked at his brother. "Dude, you really think this is Chloe's problem? Even with... the brainwashing?"

"I think the brainwashing just exacerbated it," he said quietly.

He focused on the article regarding the symptoms. "Yeah, she has most of these," he said out loud, scanning through the lengthy list of symptoms that all point toward post-traumatic stress disorder. "Thanks, Sammy."

"Sure thing," he answered. "Dean...are you okay?"

Sighing, Dean put down the stack of papers and looked at Sam, his heart full of the kind of ache and emptiness no one should have to contend with. He was too tired to care about masking his inner turmoil.

"What can I do?" he asked worriedly.

"I don't know, dude. I... I just don't know." He looked away and down at the paper in his hands. Maybe this held the key to Chloe's recovery, but his mind was too wrapped up in whether she was going to make it through the next day to worry much about the future.

"Maybe Sarah will be able to help," Sam said thoughtfully.

"Maybe," he replied. "The female thing, right? The... bonding, or whatever it's called?" He noticed the look on Sam's face and smiled a little bit.

"Yeah. That." He smiled back.

"Good thing we're here, then." Scooting back onto the bed, he picked up the stack of papers. "If I fall asleep, wake me up when Sarah gets here, okay?"

"Sure thing, Dean." He watched his brother for a moment, then headed to the bathroom to get a shower.

&&&&&

It wasn't hard remembering where Sam and Dean had stayed, because Sarah often passed that hotel on her way to the auction house... always wishing Sam would come back to visit her. Now that he was here, though, she was a nervous wreck. She wasn't sure what she'd say to him once she saw him again.

Clearing her throat, she approached the door and knocked gently. She waited with baited breath for one of the brothers to open the door. 

"Sammy, your girlfriend's here," Dean yelled, still reading the material his brother had given him on Chloe's symptoms. Interesting read, he thought, even if he had no clue how to start confronting her about it or to get her help.

A moment later, Sam stepped out of the bathroom, hair still wet from the shower. His cheeks were flushed and he shot his brother a brief glare before moving to open the door to the room. The moment he saw her, his glare melted away and turned into a warm smile. "Hi," he said quietly.

"Hey Sam," she replied, her cheeks slightly flushed from her heart racing in her chest. Couldn't be the way Sam Winchester was looking at her.

Putting the papers down, Dean stood up. "Jeez, Sam, you gonna let her stand there or what?" He managed a nod and smile in Sarah's direction.

He shot his brother another glare, and quickly stepped aside to let her in. "Come on in, Sarah."

Smiling, she walked into the room and looked at Dean. "Hiya, Dean," she said in an amused tone. "Still embarrassing your brother, I see."

Looking at her, he replied in a mockingly innocent tone, "Always. I'll, uh, let you two become... re-acquainted. Gonna go get Chloe." He looked away and headed towards the door before he let his face fall into a concerned frown.

Seeing the puzzled look on Sarah's face at Chloe's name, Sam drew in a deep breath. "Chloe's a friend," he explained. "Dean sort of... has a crush on her."

"Dean has a crush, huh?" she replied with an amused smirk. She knew how that felt all too well. Moving into the room, she sat down next to where Sam's laptop laid and looked at him. "So... how have you been?"

Sam looked at the floor. "Not so good, actually," he admitted. "How about you?"

She didn't like the way his face looked: downtrodden and defeated, like his favorite puppy had died. She didn't tackle that, however, no matter how curious she was about it. "Kinda the same, actually." She remembered her father's ranting about the missing painting and looked down, one of her braids slipping off her shoulder.

"Yeah, sounds like a lot's been going on." He moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, gazing at her. "I uh... I missed you."

She smiled a little at his words. "I missed you, too, Sam." She looked up and into his troubled eyes. "Father's been... seriously difficult since that painting went missing."

He grimaced a little. "We're gonna figure out what's going on," he promised.

"I know," she said softly, "That's why I contacted you. Well..." She hesitated. It was one reason, anyway.

Sam gazed at her, his eyes soft, hopeful. "I'm glad you did."

Sarah smiled warmly in return, secretly hoping Dean would take his time.

Meanwhile, Dean was pounding on Chloe's door, trying to rouse her. He cursed himself for not getting a copy of her key, because what if she never answered the door? Frowning, he knocked loudly on it again.

A couple moments later, she appeared at the door, looking like she'd been dragged through the woods behind a car. Literally. She squinted against the sunlight flooding her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Oh good, you're up," he whispered, shocked at how horrible Chloe looked. "Question is, did you sleep?"

"I think so," she answered, blinking a few times. "You?"

"No," he sighed in irritation. At himself, for not staying in her room. "Look, Sarah's here, and you wanted me to wake you up when we were going to start talking about this hunt... but honestly, you look like you just lost a boxing match with a mouse." He backed her into her room and shut the door so her eyes could focus a little better.

"Gee, aren't you sweet," she replied wryly, feeling irritable and exhausted.

"Kill me for being honest," he replied with a sarcastic smirk. "You're in no condition to talk about this." He gently put his hands on her arms to keep her from swaying.

"I'll just take a shower and I'll be fine," she told him.

"Chloe, you need more than a shower for this," he replied sadly, staring at her with what he thought must have been a pleading look.

Slowly sitting down on the bed, she rested her face in her hands. "What do you suggest?"

He thought for a long moment. He wanted to hold her, to let her sleep, to... He shook his head. "I don't know," he said, choosing to not say anything. "Maybe a shower... would be good." He sat in one of the chairs and looked down.

"I'll be out in awhile." She yawned and headed for the bathroom tiredly.

"I'll wait for you," he whispered, looking up to see her dejected figure crawl into the bathroom.

&&&&&

Chloe barely managed to stand up through the whole shower and when she climbed out to dry off, she realized she'd forgotten to bring clean clothes in with her. Shit. Hoping Dean had changed his mind and gone back to his own room, she wrapped the towel around herself and raked a hand through her wet hair before exiting into the main room.

Dean had actually just started nodding off, his hand resting in his palm, when he heard the bathroom door open. Startled awake, he stood up with half-parted eyes. Eyes that quickly went wide when he realized she was wearing a towel... and nothing else. "Chloe?" he asked, unable to take his eyes from her wet, dripping hair and embarrassed face.

"I... forgot clothes," she said, swallowing hard, her cheeks flushed. She seemed rooted to the spot just outside the bathroom door, as if for a moment having forgotten where her clothes even were.

Clearing his throat, he rasped, "Figured as much." He knew that wasn't for him, no matter how much he wanted it to be. He was rooted to the spot, however, and the air between them suddenly seemed alive and electric. Like a dummy, he stood there, mouth slightly agape, suddenly wondering if he was still sleeping.

"Wow... awkward factor nine," she mumbled, tearing her gaze away from his and holding onto the towel tightly as she moved to her suitcase and pulled out some clothes.

"Try ten," he grumbled, the moment gone. He turned his back to her so she could have a little bit of privacy. Not that it mattered, because the image of Chloe in that hotel towel would be branded on his memory for the rest of his life.

She quickly disappeared into the bathroom once more, her heart beating quickly as she changed into the clothes she'd brought with her. She reappeared a few moments later, now wearing a long sleeved shirt and a pair of blue jeans.

Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Dean forced himself to stop the thoughts that ran rampant across his mind. And when he whirled around at the sound of her coming out... again... he wanted to laugh at how conservative she looked. Literally. "You okay now?" he asked, unable to meet her eyes.

"A little more awake, yeah," she answered, still feeling uncomfortable. "Is Sarah next door?"

"Yeah, probably trying to get Sam to kiss her again, if I know anything about her," he replied wryly, opening the door.

Chloe smiled faintly. "It'll be good for him."

Watching her walk out the door, he followed her, thinking about how much Sam needed to get laid. Anything to keep his mind off such things. He opened their door, half expecting to find Sam making the moves on Sarah. He was disappointed to see they were just about in the same place he'd left them.

Sam glanced up, smiling faintly at Chloe then shifting his gaze to Dean and looking at him worriedly. She was looking worse all the time. And by the look on his brother's face, Dean knew that too.

Sarah saw Sam frown and turned around. She saw a pretty yet pale-faced blonde in front of Dean. She stood up and mustered a polite smile. "Hi," he said, sticking out her hand. "Sarah Blake. I'm... a friend of Sam's."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Chloe Sullivan," she replied, shaking the other woman's hand.

Dean looked at Sam, shaking his head. Sam knew Chloe wasn't any better, and it was getting to the point to where he'd have to stay with her. Just in case.... Clearing his throat, he said, "So what's going on, Sarah? Tell me it's not another freakin' painting."

Rolling her eyes and smiling at Chloe, Sarah sat down and pulled a chair out for the other woman. "It's not another freakin' painting, Dean. It's something that's stealing paintings."

"What makes you think it's a something?" Chloe asked tiredly, sitting down and murmuring her thanks. 

Sam gazed at Sarah, nodding slightly and wondering the same thing. "Have you seen something?"

"Actually... I've seen... toadstools." Sarah looked around the room before looking down in embarrassment.

Dean looked at Sam, bewildered. "Toadstools? Like... mushrooms?"

Sam looked equally puzzled. "Are you saying toadstools... stole the painting?" he asked in confusion. 

Chloe rolled her eyes. "That's not what she's saying."

"I'm saying," Sarah replied, smiling a little at Chloe since she was the only one who understood, "whatever stole these paintings left toadstools behind. In the auction house. Where there isn't any grass or soil to root." She looked at Sam and hoped he understood this time around.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed and he looked at Sarah for a moment before shaking his head and looking at Dean. "I've never heard of anything like that before. Have you?" 

Before Dean had a chance to respond, Chloe raised her hand a little. "I... have."

Glancing at her sideways, Dean looked surprised. Not like he should be. "You have? In Smallville?"

A wry smile touched her lips. "Not exactly. More like...a fantasy novel I read when I was twelve," she admitted. 

Sam looked at her blankly. "What?"

"They say a lot of that stuff is based in some fact," Sarah replied, defending Chloe a little. She suddenly wondered what it had been like for this woman to be with these two all the time. No wonder she looked so tired.

"Chloe, you're gonna base your research on something you read out of a book?" he asked incredulously. He glanced over at Sarah, who was looking between the brothers with a gleam in her eyes.

She narrowed her eyes at Dean and gave him a look. "And where did you first hear about the abominable snowman, or aliens or ghosts?" she challenged. 

Sam coughed. "She's... got a point."

Dean ignored his brother's look and zeroed in on Chloe. "That's a completely different situation," he complained. "There have been sightings of those things for years. Who's heard of something that leaves toadstools, for crying out loud?"

"Dean, cut it out," Sarah said irritably, seeing the other woman's face pale with his words. "I can show you, since you obviously don't believe me." She pulled something out of her purse. It was wrapped up in a paper towel.

Sam looked at her in alarm. "Sarah, what if that's dangerous? You shouldn't be touching it!" he said worriedly. 

Chloe looked at her and rolled her eyes, reaching out and gently taking the paper towel from her, unfurling it slowly. Sure enough, there was a fairly large toadstool at the center of the wrap. And not like any toadstool she'd ever seen before. It was bright green with red spots. "Interesting," she murmured, looking perplexed as she studied it.

"That's what I said... after I touched it." She looked pointedly at Sam, as if to remind him about how she could actually take care of herself. 

"What kind of thing would leave... that?" Dean asked in a hushed voice, a little embarrassed that he'd been so harsh. He looked at Sam with profound sadness in his eyes.

"That's a good question," Sam murmured, peering at it closely. "Do they all look like this?" he asked, turning his gaze to Sarah once more.

"Pretty much," she replied, looking back at him and shrugging. "They're different sizes, but the funky polka-dot pattern and colors are the same. What's weird is that... these things lead away from the artwork that's been stolen."

Dean cocked an eyebrow at her. "Where does the trail lead?"

"To an exit."

"Gnomes," Chloe said with a trace of a smile on her lips once more. 

"Gnomes?" Sam repeated, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Is that what they're called?" Sarah asked, looking at Chloe.

"I thought they were those horrible things you see in people's yards," Dean replied with a shudder. "Those are just... creepy."

"Well, that's what those statues were supposedly modeled after. Gnomes represent the element of earth according to mythology, so people place the statues in their yards and gardens. Probably to look after their plants. But I don't know what they'd want with artwork." She chewed on her lower lip, still studying the toadstool.

Dean's lips curled into a proud smile. He'd managed to find a smart woman, he mused to himself.

"Maybe gnomes with expensive taste?" Sarah joked, though it fell a little flat.

Chloe smiled a little at her. "Maybe. What was the painting of?" she asked curiously.

"Douglas Fairbanks, of all things," she replied with a smirk. "Maybe they just have bad taste in art." She looked at Sam and smiled a little, wondering what had made him so quiet.

"Okay, so how do we kill these things?" Dean immediately replied.

"Well...are they really evil? Or do they just... steal hideous paintings?" Sam wondered aloud, raising his eyebrows.

"Might be helpful if you found out, Google boy," Dean retorted, sliding the laptop in Sam's direction and then putting his arm around Chloe.

"And here you thought Dean didn't know what Google was," Chloe said with a smirk, glancing at Sam. 

A wry smile touched his lips and he shook his head as he booted up his computer.

"Need some help with that search?" Sarah immediately asking, searching for anything that would get her closer to Sam.

"Always," he answered with a soft smile, glancing up at her. 

Chloe almost grinned at the look that passed between them.

Dean couldn't help but feel a pang of happiness for his brother...and jealousy that he and Sarah seemed to click so well so quickly. Obviously neither had forgotten the other, he thought, sneaking a look at Chloe. She looked like she was amused by Sarah and Sam's interaction, though she still looked exhausted. Beautiful, but tired. "How you doing?" he whispered to her.

"I'm fine," she told him, glancing at him sideways, tucking some hair behind her ear. "How are you?"

"Peachy." Sighing inwardly, he stood up and asked, "I'm grabbing a beer. Want one?"

Chloe raised her eyebrows. "I think I'll pass, but thanks."

Turning away from her, he walked to the mini fridge and grabbed a longneck out. Flipping off the cap, he took a long drink. God, what he wouldn't give to get absolutely smashed tonight, he thought miserably. Maybe when drunk he could figure out how to turn off his feelings for her. He moved to the window and gazed out of it.

Sam smiled as Sarah looked over his shoulder at the computer as they searched for information on gnomes. 

"Uh, guys?" Chloe said suddenly, a hint of alarm in her voice as she stood up.

"What?" Dean said, swirling around on his heel quickly. His eyes widened as he saw something moving in the middle of the paper Sarah had wrapped the toadstool in.

Sarah glanced over at Chloe. "Is it... supposed to do that?" she asked worriedly as the toadstool suddenly grew stubby legs.

Sam stared at it in surprised fascination. "I have no idea," he murmured. 

"Well I guess that confirms what we're dealing with." She grimaced a little as a head suddenly appeared in place of the mushroom cap. A gnarled little gnome was suddenly formed, looking like a tiny troll. It glared at all of them.

Dean laughed out loud. "That’s what we're up against?" He pointed his beer bottle at it. "I could squash that thing with my foot!"

When she saw the thing zero in on Dean and the bottle he was holding, Sarah said, "Dean, don't talk about it like that."

"You think it's...evil?" Sam asked hesitantly, still staring at it. 

"One way to find out," Chloe said grimly, kneeling down so she was at eye level with the thing, but far enough out of its reach if it tried to do anything.

The creature just glared at her, as if it was annoyed because Chloe was actually staring at it.

Dean strode across the room and thumped his beer bottle on the table. "Chloe, be careful," he warned.

"Hi there," she said in a soft voice, feeling somewhat stupid. She wondered if it could talk.

Dean watched as the creature continued to stare at her. He didn't know what to do, aside from stifle another laugh. "I don't think it und--" His comment was cut off brutally as he watched the gnome suddenly shoot towards his beer, pick it up... from the bottom... and scoot it and the bottle off the table.

Sarah was more than amused, though she stood up suddenly in shock, watching the thing steal Dean's beer so quickly. "Wow," she whispered.

Sam rose to his feet, looking equally as shocked. "He's gone!" 

"Yeah the question is, where the hell did he go?" Chloe asked in disbelief, looking around the room and not seeing any sign of the little bugger.

"And how the hell did it take off with my beer?" Dean demanded, ignoring the others. The thing had just... vanished. "Wait, wasn't that thing a toadstool about thirty seconds ago?"

"I wonder," Sarah replied, sitting down and looking at Sam's laptop. "Oh, Sam, you had pulled something up about this. Look."

Shaking his head a little, dazed, he studied the screen of his computer. Then snorted. "According to this...certain types of gnomes are known to vanish at will."

"And not only that," she continued, "but some can also turn into toadstools." She moved her hand to brush her braids out of the way, her fingers grazing Sam's shirt as she moved.

"You always have the most interesting troubles," Dean remarked with a lazy grin.

Sarah eyed Dean suspiciously, then turned to Chloe. "Do you know anything about how they can disappear? Or... where we can look?"

A little paler than she had been, but still looking vaguely amused, Chloe slowly rose to her feet once more, rubbing the back of her neck. "I'm not sure...it depends on what type it is...according to legend, some live in caves, some underground, some in trees..." She shrugged a little helplessly.

"I bet you can answer all those questions, too," she replied with a small smile. "Too bad I didn't bring my computer with me, or else I'd have something to give to you."

"I...have a computer in my room," Chloe admitted with a faint smile in return. "I'll just go grab it." She started for the door.

"I'll come with you," Dean said, following her, feeling pretty helpless at the moment. For once, he wished he was more technologically talented, because among these three, he felt very much like a fish out of water.

"Okay," she agreed, heading out of the guys' room and outside onto the sidewalk. Wincing a little as her head pounded, she unlocked the door to her own room and stepped inside, Dean behind her.

He hovered around the door as he watched her move slowly, reaching for her computer and standing upright again. She looked more than tired: she looked like she'd had enough of the world in general. She didn't know how well he understood that feeling, either. He wanted to say something, but he didn't know what to say or how to say it, for that matter. So he continued staring at her, feeling his heart lurch in his chest with every pained movement she made.

A wave of dizziness washed her and she rested one hand against the table to steady herself, faltering a little.

Rushing to her, Dean managed to catch her before she fell back. "Okay, that's it," he whispered. "No research for you tonight." Picking her up, he gently laid her on the top of the bed and wrapped the covers around her. He then scooted in behind her and wrapped her within his embrace.

"But they need help," she murmured weakly, her eyes already drifting shut.

"They can figure out how to rule the world, they're so smart," he replied, pulling her close to him.

"You don't have to stay here," Chloe whispered, her voice strained.

He felt like he'd been kicked in the face. "Are you asking me to leave?" he asked, dejected and on the verge of leaving her to get drunk.

"No." Her voice was pained. "I'm just saying you don't have to stay."

"I want to stay," he sighed, burying his face into her hair. "I wanna make sure you sleep tonight."

She swallowed hard, relaxing back against him. "Okay." She drew in a breath and let it out slowly as his arm draped around her waist. She felt his lips press against the back of her head and after a moment, she moved her arm to cover his, trembling involuntarily.

Her small movement confused him, especially given the fact that she was trembling like a leaf. "Am I scaring you?" he asked softly, frowning a little.

"No." The word nearly made her choke.

His grip loosened on her and he started pulling away. "Yes, I am," he stated dully. He was beginning to think Sam was right. She was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. How did he bring that up, though?

"Don't, please," she whispered, clutching onto his arm and not letting go.

He hesitantly pulled her back into his arms at her urging, still despondent though his body screamed for more contact with hers. Putting his face back into her hair, he stifled a smile at being near her. "If you insist," he whispered, gently rubbing her arms to warm them.

She let out a slow breath, closing her eyes once more, keeping her hand lightly on his arm as if to make sure he wasn't going anywhere.

Putting a hand over hers, he intertwined their fingers as he felt her breathing start to even out. Kissing her softly on the back of her neck, Dean forced his eyes closed and turned off his thoughts. This time, sleep found him quickly.

It was slower to find her, but it came eventually as she drifted off, realizing no one had ever held her like this before in her entire life. And she wondered why.

&&&&&

Sam couldn't help but feel a little paranoid as he looked around the room occasionally, just in case the little gnome appeared again. He shook his head and then glanced at the clock on his computer. It was late. Dean and Chloe had been gone for nearly thirty minutes. He frowned in concern.

"I'm sure they're okay," Sarah whispered, glancing at Sam as she continued to peruse the computer screen. She stifled a small yawn, as she too had seen the time.

He let out a breath. "It's uh...it's just...Chloe's...been through a lot..."

To Hell and back seemed like the right phrase to use, but Sarah didn't mention it. "Where'd you guys meet her, if I can ask?"

He offered her a wry smile. "Side of the road in Kansas."

Sarah cocked her brow at Sam. "Seriously? You guys do that?"

"Not usually," he assured her. "But...Dean has a thing for blondes."

She smiled a little. "Well, that's not surprising. Most men do." She flushed at her comment and turned her eyes back to the screen, clicking on another link about gnome-finding.

Sam thought momentarily of Jess, feeling a pang of sadness. It passed as he gazed at her. "Seriously, how have you been? It's been a long time."

Sighing, she wanted to tell him that she had spent the last several months of her life wondering if he'd ever come back, that the everyday humdrum-ness of her life didn't make her happy anymore. Not since the last time he and his brother were in town. "Been fine," she said absently. "Working a lot at the auction house. My dad is such a slave driver. How about you?"

He paused. "The usual...mostly." His voice lowered a little.

"Mostly?" she asked softly, looking sideways at him.

Sam drew in a breath. "Our dad died a few weeks ago. Same demon that killed our mother. And...my girlfriend."

Sarah whipped her head around to stare at Sam's suddenly troubled face. "What?" she whispered, tears pricking the backs of her eyelids. That explained a lot, she thought, remembering the conversation they'd had over why he didn't want to risk getting involved with her.

He tried to offer her a reassuring smile, but couldn't quite manage it. "Yeah," he whispered.

"Sam, I'm... I'm so sorry," she whispered, placing a hand on his and squeezing gently. "How horrible."

Swallowing hard, he squeezed her hand back a little. "Dean's...not exactly dealing very well."

She drew in a deep breath, feeling very much like the outsider she was. "Have you two... talked about it?" she said hesitantly.

A grim smile touched his lips. "Dean doesn't talk about that kinda stuff. Especially not with me."

"You tried tying him to a chair and making him listen?" she said with a small grin of pained amusement on her face.

"All but. I'm kinda hoping maybe..." He glanced toward the direction of Chloe's room.

"You're hoping he's talking to Chloe?" she asked, not too sure if Chloe was able to handle something so traumatic.

"I'm hoping maybe...they'll talk to each other."

Leaning into him, she whispered, "I hope he'll talk to you, too, Sam. Sounds like you need that just as much." She patted his hand gently and then reluctantly pulled away from him.

"Thanks," Sam whispered. He hoped so too.

She looked at Sam and smiled again, not sure what else to say. Knowing there was too much to say, especially considering they were strangers. "I... should be going," she said suddenly, standing up and looking away.

He looked up in surprise. "Oh...right, it's...late." He exhaled and stood up. "Do you need a ride home?"

Grabbing her purse, she looked back and smiled faintly. "No, I've got my car.... but thanks for the offer." She pushed her braids out of her way as she looked up at him. "So, what's next?"

"We'll come by in the morning to check things out," he promised, gazing at her intently.

"Okay." Sarah's face grew heated at the look on Sam's face, like he could see into her mind and read her thoughts. "I... I'll see you tomorrow. Gotta be at work at 9AM." She turned and headed for the door.

"I'll see you...we'll see you then." Swallowing hard, he watched her go.

Turning around and smiling at him again, Sarah opened the hotel room door and shut it behind her. Leaning against the door, she sighed as a couple tears slipped from her eyes. Her heart ached for him, but they had gnomes to catch and paintings to find. She couldn't afford to let her heart get involved again.

&&&&&

_Chloe's mind was spinning as she slowly made her way up the stairs to Clark's loft, willing herself to keep going. "Clark? Are you here?"_

_He'd been pacing the loft floor, itching to literally run to Metropolis and see what kind of trouble he could into and out of in the blink of an eye. So when he heard Chloe's voice, he rolled his eyes. "What does she want?" he asked in a low growl. "I'm up here, sweetheart."_

_She made it to the top of the stairs, gazing at him intently. "Hey."_

_Clark nodded at her absently, his mind a million miles away. "What's up?" he asked with a false smile plastered on his face. Why was she here? What they did yesterday was fun, but... why drag it out?_

_She forced herself to smile back. "Just thought I'd come say hi. See what you were up to."_

_His irritation turned into a lazy smile as he slowly let his gaze trail the length of her body. He'd remembered how she reacted to his touch and briefly wondered if she was game for another round. "Oh, I'm doing absolutely nothing," he replied in a slow drawl, a predatory gleam in his eyes._

_She clutched her purse a little tighter. "Not even Red-K?" she asked evenly._

_"What?" he asked in a mockingly innocent tone. "Can't I have a little bit of fun once in awhile?" He took several steps towards her, towering over her within a split second._

_Swallowing hard, a wave of fear hitting her, she started to think this had been a stupid idea. "Is that what this is?" she asked, not looking away from him. "Fun?"_

_"Of course," he whispered close to her ear. "I wouldn't mind having some more fun with you." He slid his hands over her arms, his high school class ring probably cold against her skin. He felt her shiver and it turned him on immediately._

_"I'm sorry, Clark," she whispered almost inaudibly to the normal human ear. Her eyes were sad as she pressed the green rock lightly against his chest, guilt sweeping over her._

_He suddenly felt sick, the green rock making his blood boil within his veins. He fell to his knees and curled up into a ball. "Chloe, what... what are... you... doing?" he grunted, every word painfully spoken, as if fire came from his throat._

_Tears stung her eyes and she quickly knelt down and pulled the ring off his finger, then tossed the green kryptonite down the stairs, moving back and stomping on the ring, shattering it._

_Clark felt like he had been in a haze of pain which suddenly disappeared. And as he looked up and over at Chloe's anguished face, the events of the last couple of days came crashing back on him. "Chloe," he whispered, standing up, sorrow and regret written all over his face. "What have I done?"_

_She didn't answer, simply gazed at him. Because she couldn't speak._

_"Oh no, what happened to me?" he asked hurriedly. "Did I hurt you when....?" Clark couldn't bring himself to say the words outright. He just couldn't believe he'd had sex with his best friend._

_"No," she said distantly._

_Clark took a step towards her but blinked in surprise when she moved away from him. He followed her. "Please, Chloe... talk to me." His tone was pleading, begging for her to say something. "I'm so sorry for what happened... I didn't mean it."_

_A bitter smile twisted her lips. "Yeah. I figured that out, Clark." She turned and began to retreat down the stairs, fighting back the urge to start crying._

_Clark flew down the stairs after her, grabbing her arm gently. "That's not what I meant. I didn't know what I was doing, because... I was on red-k."_

_"Let go of me," she whispered, pulling her arm away and not looking at him as she headed out of the barn._

Dean awoke to the feeling of someone struggling against his embrace. Opening his eyes groggily, he saw the light was still on, but Chloe was sleeping, dreaming of something that obviously frightened her. The way she thrashed to get away from him... He sat up and scooted away from her before trying to wake her up.

She woke up with a start, tears in her eyes, her breathing ragged.

"Chloe?" he asked, turning her around to look at her. He saw the tears streaming town her face and swore inwardly. Using the edge of his button-down shirt, he started wiping the tears away.

Embarrassed, she ducked her head. "What time is it?"

"Close to 4AM." Dean pulled away from her, unsettled by her reaction.

She rubbed the back of her neck, drawing in a breath and letting out slowly.

Moving to the side of the bed, Dean swung his legs over and turned his back to her. "Another nightmare?" he asked sleepily.

"I'm sorry I woke you," she whispered, not looking at him.

"It's okay." He ran a hand through his short hair. "I didn't mean to fall asleep in here."

"Yeah," she murmured, her head aching. She slowly climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom to get some Tylenol.

Dean kept his eyes on the floor as he listened to her move around the room. He wanted to ask what she had dreamed about but was pretty sure she wouldn't tell him. He stood up and began pacing the room slowly.

She returned a few moments later, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, though it was hard to see in the darkness of the hotel room.

In his movement, he accidentally bumped into her, their bodies brushing together. "Sorry," he said automatically, putting his hands on her arms to steady her. He saw her tear-streaked face and frowned. "Tell me what you dreamed about."

"Home," she whispered almost inaudibly.

Somehow, he had heard her grieved utterance. "Who about at home?" he continued softly, gripping her arms softly.

Chloe shut her eyes, unable to respond to that question. She rested her forehead against his collarbone wordlessly.

Cupping the back of her head, he pulled her into the warmth of his body. He felt her shoulders quake and knew she was trying to stave off the tears she still needed to shed. "It's okay," he whispered, rubbing her sore head gently.

It wasn't okay. Nothing was okay. She wasn't sure it ever would be, but she couldn't bring herself to utter any words, simply leaned against him for support. Because she couldn't handle this by herself right now.

When Dean felt Chloe wrap her arms around him, his automatic response was to do the same. She seemed so fragile and weak, and he got the impression that she was anything but that. Hugging her tightly, he whispered, "You need to cry, don't you." It was a statement of fact, though he couldn't believe he actually said that.

"I don't know what I need anymore," she whispered, her eyes still shut. "I'm just...tired."

Clenching his jaw, Dean picked her up and brought her back to the bed, lying her down and pulling the covers over her. "You should sleep," he whispered gently, though his voice betrayed that he thought she was suffering from more than just not sleeping.

"You should too. I don't think this hunt's gonna be as easy as it seems."

"They never are," he admitted, looking down at her. "Goodnight," he whispered, turning to walk back into the next room with a heavy heart.

"Night," she whispered, clutching tightly onto her pillow.

Sighing, he whispered to himself, "I wish I knew how to help you." Though it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her about the stuff Sam had given him, he knew it wasn't the right time. He pulled her door open and shut it behind him softly.

&&&&&&

Chloe was still tired the next morning as they headed into the Daniel Blake Auction House, but not quite as much as she had been the night before. She glanced around, a little dazed by all the paintings and mirrors and other pieces of artwork in every direction.

Dean walked up behind her and put an arm around her shoulder, kissing her cheek. "Kinda cluttered, isn't it?" he whispered in her ear.

She smiled faintly. "A little," she admitted, glancing at him sideways.

"Glad to see you're all here," Sarah replied, walking up to Sam with a large smile.

Sam smiled back at her. "Hey," he said softly. "Should we be expecting your dad?" he asked, recalling how the man had reacted to him and Dean last time around.

She frowned and shook her head. "He's not here yet," she said, looking at the other two and smiling. "I didn't want him to know... you guys were here." She looked back at Sam a little sheepishly.

"Good thing," Dean replied with a smirk. "I think he still hates me for that 'Chuckles' remark."

Chloe couldn't help but smirk. "You called Sarah's dad Chuckles?" 

"And thought he was a waiter," Sam said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, that made him really happy, by the way," Sarah replied with a twinkle in her eye.

Clearing his throat, Dean replied, "So Sammy tells me you two found something last night."

She nodded. "We did, but I wanted to show you those toadstools." She took Sam's hand and led him towards the back of the auction house.

Chloe glanced at Dean once more. "Shall we follow the lovebirds?"

Smirking, Dean teased, "Only if I can keep my arm over your shoulders."

She rolled her eyes, faintly amused. "Whatever floats your boat, Dean."

He wanted her to float his boat, but he kept that thought to himself as he walked with her behind Sam and Sarah.

At the back of the room, Sarah stopped and gaped. Vaguely aware she had taken Sam's hand and he hadn't let it go, she looked frantically around the bare spot where some paintings had been housed. "Oh no, they're gone," she whispered.

Chloe frowned and looked around. "Mostly anyway..." She knelt down on the floor, grimacing a little at what appeared to be a tiny piece of a mushroom hat. She glanced up. "And that's not all that appears to be missing..." She nodded toward the wall. 

Sam followed her gaze to the blank spot. "Uh, was there a painting there last night?"

Letting Sam's hand go, she put both to cover her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. "Yes, there was. A rare Normal Rockwell painting." She looked at Sam.

"They must have taken it," Dean remarked, looking at the thing Chloe held in her hand. 

Chloe was silent for a moment, lost in thought. 

Sam rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at Dean. "All we really know about gnomes is that they can live in a few different places, that they can turn into toadstools, and that they can vanish at will. Tracking them's not going to be easy." 

"Unless..." Chloe glanced up at Sarah. "Sarah, do you guys have those tracking devices in the frames of your artwork?"

Sarah nodded at Chloe. "Oh yeah. Most of the things we sell are rare and expensive, so they're equipped with tracking chips. The only problem is..." She breathed in deeply. "My father has the access codes for the tracker."

"Does he keep them on a computer?" she questioned, rising to her feet.

Sarah nodded slowly. "And I can tell you where that is," she whispered with a growing smile. She bet Chloe could somehow break through her father's firewalls.

"Well, then it's not gonna be a problem." She smiled a little and followed Sarah.

Looking at Sam, Dean whispered, "Dude, I think they're bonding." He couldn't help but smile at the thought.

"Looks like." Sam smiled a bit and followed, as well.

Sarah led them upstairs to her father's office. Fortunately she had a key, so she used that instead of the Winchesters' lock picking ability to open the door. Once inside, she shut it back and locked it again. "So we can be warned if Dad gets here early," she said, looking around at everyone.

Nodding, Dean turned to Chloe, who had already sat at the computer and was booting it up.

Sam leaned against the door, gazing at Sarah without thinking about it. 

Chloe was focused instantly, growing unaware of everyone's gaze on her. Well, everyone's but Sam's anyway. A faint smile tugged at her lips. Hacking Sarah's dad's computer was going to be a cinch. "This will only take a couple minutes."

"Really?" Sarah said, smiling at the notion that Chloe was probably a master hacker. She turned to look at Sam, whose gaze she'd felt on her for the last several minutes. "Maybe this will be easier than I thought," she said to him hopefully.

"Maybe," he said with a small smile, slightly amazed at the blonde's abilities. Seemed like they were finding out more about her life all the time without her even telling them. 

"All right, I'm in..." Chloe said without looking up.

Dean blinked. "Damn, you're good," he whispered, a grin on his face.

"There should be a program labeled 'tracker' or something to that effect," Sarah said, taking her eyes off Sam and moving around to take a look at the computer screen.

"That it?" Chloe asked, glancing up at Sarah briefly. When the other woman nodded, she clicked on it. "Ohh...so all I have to do is click on this button...and this one...these are the two that are missing, right?"

"That's it, exactly," she replied with a triumphant smile. "And based on the coordinates, I'd say they're hidden in the same place." She pointed at the numbers listed beneath the painting names.

Dean grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. "Is there some way we can determine if they're gonna be on the move or not?" He jotted the numbers down and handed them to Sam. "Dude, we'll need the GPS."

Sarah nodded. "Actually, there's hand-held device that we can upload the information to use to track." She turned around and walked to the large closet to look for it.

Chloe's eyes twinkled as she waited for Sarah to find the device. 

Sam scratched his neck. "Hate to rain on the parade, but...how are we gonna kill these things? If...they're evil, I mean," he added quickly from Chloe's look.

"Why wouldn't they be evil?" Dean asked, staring at his brother steadily though he'd rested his hands on Chloe's shoulders. "They're stealing stuff. And one of them stole my beer, man. And they're ugly and fast. Makes them evil to me."

Having located the hand-held tracking device, Sarah handed it to Chloe and looked at Dean. "Don't you steal, and pick locks, and break into things, Dean?" she innocently.

Sam smirked. "She's got a point there." 

"Yeah, but Dean's not ugly," Chloe responded without thinking about it, focusing on the computer once more.

Dean grinned and squeezed her shoulders. 'That's my girl,' he thought to himself as he gave Sam a look. "You're missing the point, Sammy."

Moving over to stand next to Sam, Sarah crossed her arms. "And what point would that be?" She cocked an eyebrow at Dean.

"That... they're just evil, okay?" he grumbled, looking down at Chloe, who was totally focused on uploading the tracking program onto the handheld device.

"Got it," she said a moment later. "And...they might not be evil per say so much as mischievous ...but Dean's right about one thing ...they are ugly little suckers." She rose to her feet, studying the device. "The paintings aren't far from here. Maybe two blocks."

"Good, then it won't be too hard getting the stuff back," Dean said, moving towards the door. When he heard something in the lock, however, he froze. "Is that your father?" he whispered frantically to Sarah.

"Crap," she swore under her breath. "It probably is." She looked around for hiding places. "Quick, you guys... hide somewhere." Grabbing Sam's hand, she headed for the closet at the back of the room.

Sam quickly ducked into the closet with Sarah, shutting the door quietly and leaving Chloe and Dean to stare at each other in alarm. 

"Shit," she whispered, yanking him by the arm and crawling under the desk.

Dean dove under the desk and straight into Chloe's lap just as the door opened and shut. Their faces close, he looked at her, willing her to remain still and quiet. As much as he wanted her close to him, these weren't the idea circumstances, he thought, listening to the shuffling noises on top of the desk. What was weird, though, was that he hadn't noticed any legs belonging to a human appear around the desk. 

Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest and she rested a hand on Dean's shoulder, ducking her head just a little to peer under the desk. She met his eyes with raised brows. "Not human," she mouthed.

Looking at her in confusion, he suddenly realized that the scratching noises on the desk sounded more like... feet. Frowning, he gave her a look that told her to stay put and got out from under the desk to look up. Sure enough, he saw five ugly gnomes scurrying around, taking everything in sight. "Sammy!" he yelled, standing up and whipping out his gun.

Ignoring Dean's look, Chloe quickly rose to her feet as well, not hesitating to reach out and grab one of them in her hands. It glared at her and she glared right back. "Stop stealing!"

"Stop talking to them!" Dean shouted, pointing his gun at one of them, only to have it taken away brutally. The little gnarled gnome that took it cackled and disappeared in a poof of smoke.

Hearing the commotion out in the office, Sarah opened the door suddenly. "What the hell?" she asked out loud.

"Don't yell at me," Chloe said, scowling at him as she held onto the gnome tightly and it struggled in her grip. 

Sam's eyes were wide as he appeared. "Uh, why don't you give that here, Chlo?"

"That thing stole my gun!" Dean yelled, snatching another gnome up and screaming in pain as it bit him hard. He dropped the thing on the floor and tried to stomp on it; the gnome, however, had disappeared.

Sarah watched as Chloe tried to keep the third and final gnome in her grasp, but the thing was quite slick. "Here, let me help," she said, moving over to the blonde.

"Grab his legs," Chloe said, holding onto its arms firmly. "You bite me and I bite back," she warned the ugly thing. "And I'm not even kidding." 

Sam stared at the girls wide-eyed.

"Tell him, Chloe," Sarah replied with a smile as she grabbed its legs and held it firmly between her hands. The gnome, obviously infuriated, squirmed while suspended in the air, muttering what she assumed was curses at them for not letting him go.

Dean watched in amusement as the girls managed to catch the little ugly thing. Holding hid hurt hand, he said, "So you two have it strung up... now what?"

Chloe shot him a glare. "Well, we're not killing it. Unless it doesn't behave." The gnome stopped struggling, as though it understood what she'd said. She gave Sarah a satisfied smirk. "I think he understands English." 

"Clearly." Sam looked puzzled. "But uh...what are we going to do with him? And why the hell isn't he just doing that vanishing act?"

"Good question," Sarah replied, studying the gnome closely. She noticed it resumed trying to free itself, specifically an arm and leg. "Hold still, you little monster," she growled at it. The tiny brute stopped and looked at her, glaring in defiance.

"Maybe no one can be touching it for it to pull a Houdini," Chloe mused aloud, studying it. 

"So...we're just gonna hold onto it forever?" Sam asked with raised brows. 

Chloe gave him a look. "Actually I kinda thought we'd hold it for ransom while you two go retrieve the paintings."

Dean paused. "Wait, you're kidding, right?" He looked at Chloe, a little shocked at her suggestion. No way did he want to leave her there with that... thing.

"Well either that or you two can hold it while Sarah and I go find the paintings," she responded, giving him a look.

Looking at Sarah, Dean said, "You mind?" He moved to stand next to her and held out his hands to grab the creature's legs from her.

Smiling, Sarah moved out of the way. "Knock yourself out." She turned to Sam. "Looks like you and me are going to get the paintings, Sammy," she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

Sam grinned at her, more than happy to be going somewhere alone with her. "We'll be back soon," he told them, heading for the door.

Watching Sarah and Sam leave, Dean shook his head at his brother. "Damn, that boy needs come lovin'," he said to himself before realizing he was alone with Chloe. Alone and holding a wriggling, ugly thing between them.

"Hold still," Chloe hissed, glaring at it. "Do not make me kick your ass."

Dean stifled a laugh as he watched it glare at her and then resume its muttering and wriggling. "Hey, you'd better listen to her. I'm pretty sure she could kick your little ass," he told it with a deep laugh. He looked up at her and smiled.

She smiled back at him and then glared at the gnome. "I have mace. If you don't know what that is, it's painful when it's in your eyes. Could blind you."

The thing suddenly cackled evilly, which made Dean frown. "Do they normally do that?" he asked out loud, seconds before he heard a loud BOOM. Within moments, the room was practically crawling with gnomes: the walls, floor, the desk. It seemed they were trying to get their kidnapped brother back, because they were all making a beeline for both Chloe and Dean.

Chloe coughed as the gnome they were holding suddenly blew in her face, some kind of dust seeping into her nose. She looked around in alarm. "Oh, crap."

Letting go of the gnome and grabbing her hand, he shouted, "Come on, Chloe!" He made for the closet where Sam and Sarah had hidden only moments before and managed to get he and Chloe into it and shut the door behind them before the gnomes got to them. It was pitch dark in there, and it was small and crowded, but at least they were safe. "Hey, you okay?" he asked softly.

"Fine…what happens if they all teleport in here?" she asked nervously, looking around pointlessly.

Hearing the commotion out in the office, Dean swallowed hard. "I have no idea, but can we cross that bridge when we get there?" he asked her, keeping a firm hold on the doorknob until he could turn the lock. "I just wonder how long they're gonna --" He stopped when he felt a hand on his chest.

"It's really dark in here," she whispered, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

Pulling her to him, Dean grinned softly. "Hey, I'm here. The dark won't get you." He wrapped his arms around her and hoped the door would hold against the pounding he still heard outside it.

"I'm going to hell." The words left her mouth of their own volition, tears prickling at her eyes.

His smile fell immediately. Tugging at her, he replied, "No you're not. No way." He once again felt her tremble against him and wondered what made her think that.

"Yes I am," she whispered, her head pounding as she slunk back to lean against the door, her breath coming in shuddering gasps.

"No you're not," he insisted, his ears focused more on her shortness of breath than the commotion doing on outside. "Why are you doing this?"

She was sitting on the floor, her head in her hands. "I shouldn't have been so stupid," she whispered, almost like she didn't realize he was there. "I shouldn't have believed him. I shouldn't have..."

Crouching down with her, he took her face in his hands. "Who, Chloe? Shouldn't have believed... who?" Even as he spoke the words, Dean had a feeling she was talking about Clark. That miserable son of a bitch who had somehow broken her into pieces. He wasn't sure, though, so he waited and hoped she'd finally tell him.

"Clark." Tears streaked down her face and a soft sob escaped her. "I was so stupid..."

"Dammit," he replied, pulling her onto his lap and into his arms. "Damn him, damn him," he muttered under his breath as he held her, listening to her sobs, feeling her shoulders quake. And wishing he could put Clark six feet under. He kissed the top of her head gently in reassurance.

"I should've known better. How could he love me? I'm not lovable," she whispered brokenly, her mind recalling the words Pastor Frank had told her over and over.

Dean visibly winced at her words, spoken out loud finally and breaking his heart at the same time. "You are too lovable," he replied softly, wiping the tears streaming down her face. "He was a stupid, blind idiot for not loving you."

"No, I'm not. I'm not." She shuddered, another soft sob escaping her.

Despite the darkness of the closet, Dean groped for her chin and pulled her face close to his. "You are, too, Chloe... I love you," he whispered before leaning down and kissing her gently.

She cried softly but didn't pull away from his kiss, reaching up with one hand to touch his cheek. If she'd been in the right frame of mind, she would have been thankful it was dark since she undoubtedly looked like hell.

Dean sighed inwardly, knowing she at least hadn't completely rejected what he'd finally confessed. He gently wiped the tears from her face as he continued to kiss her, their mouths melting into each other.

Chloe shifted closer to him, needing to feel him even though the doubt in the back of her mind was ever-present. This is a bad idea, she thought, though she pushed it away for the time being, tears drying on her cheeks as he cradled her head in his hands, his mouth exploring hers slowly.

Dean was urged on by Chloe's arms curling around his, pulling him closer to her. She tasted like heaven, he thought blindly as he continued his gentle kisses against her full, lush lips. He sensed, however, that she was teetering on desperation, and while he would have loved nothing better than to continue this non-verbal conversation, he didn't want her hating herself later on. Reluctantly, he pulled his mouth off hers, though he kept her face between in hands. Breathing in deeply, he touched his forehead against hers. "See?" he rasped with emotion. "You're totally lovable."

She swallowed hard, one hand resting over his heart. Neither of them realized that the pounding on the door had long since stopped.

&&&&&

Despite the fact that she was all too aware of Sam's presence next to her, Sarah used the handheld painting tracking device to find the missing paintings. "I think they're in that building over there," she said, pointing across the street.

Nodding a little, he led the way, placing a gentle hand on her arm as he paused outside the warehouse door. "Maybe I should go in alone."

"What, and risk getting yourself hurt?" she asked softly with a smile. She stepped back, however, and let him enter first.

A faint smile tugged at his lips and he stepped inside, flipping on a flashlight and peering into the darkness.

The beeping on the tracker got louder and more frequent as she pointed it towards the back of the warehouse. "The paintings must be back in the corner," she whispered, hearing her voice resound in the nearly empty building. She grabbed the back of his jacket to keep up with him.

Sam smiled as she held onto his coat and he slowed his pace a little, keeping his eye out for gnomes. Fortunately the place seemed to be deserted. And sure enough, in the back corner, there were the missing paintings.

"God, they're still intact," she whispered, pulling up beside him. Looking around, she didn't see any of those horrid creatures around, so she bent down and reached out to grab one of the paintings.

Sam grabbed the other one. “I say we get back before they decide to make an appearance," he said grimly.

"I agree," she said, taking off after him and not looking back. Slamming the warehouse door behind her, she turned and smiled at Sam. "Where do you think the little guys were?"

He frowned a little. "That's a good question," he murmured, looking worried.

Tugging the large, heavy painting towards her, Sarah looked up at Sam. "Come on, let's get these paintings back to the auction house before someone on the street thinks we're stealing."

"Good idea." Sam chuckled a little, looking around before sliding the paintings into the Impala's trunk.

Getting into the passenger seat, she waited for Sam to get into the driver's side. Smoothing her hands over the seats, she felt a little disappointed that the auction house was so close to where they'd found the paintings. She really wanted to spend more alone time with Sam... though she sternly reminded herself that it was just because they hadn't any time to catch up. Not really.

"We still have to figure out a way to keep the gnomes out of your gallery," he murmured, looking lost in thought as he started the car.

Turning to look out the window as he pulled the car into the street, she said, "I don't know. Guess that's something we'll have to research or something." She turned to look at Sam sideways; he had a blank look on his face. "Hey, what's with the face?" she teased gently.

"Come with us," he said without thinking.

Sarah blinked in surprise. "What?" she said, a giggle escaping her lips because his statement had completely taken her by surprise. She smiled, though.

Sam glanced at her sideways. "When we leave...come with us." His voice was soft.

Her smile widened as her eyes met his. "Really?" She allowed herself to get carried away by the sheer thought for a moment. It was what she'd wanted to do the last time they were in town... Her smile fell. "This is... I don't know if... I can," she whispered sadly.

Sam swallowed hard, shocked he'd actually asked her that. He turned to stare out the windshield. "It's okay."

Sighing, Sarah sank into the seat. "I'd love to come with you, Sam, but... what would I tell Dad?"

"I don't know," he admitted, gripping onto the wheel.

Hesitating, she reached out and covered his white knuckles with her fingers. "Can... I ask why you want me to come?" Her voice was hopeful, though her breath caught in her throat, waiting for his answer.

Sam was silent for a moment. "I don't wanna leave you behind again," he whispered.

She gasped, releasing her pent-up breath while that same air caught in her throat again. "Good. I don't wanna be left behind again." She slid her hand to his arm and gripped it gently.

Swallowing hard, he gripped her hand back in return and guided the Impala into the parking lot of her father's auction house.

She watched Sam park the car and shut off the engine. Looking down at their joined hands, she said, "I'll talk to my father. I have a feeling he'll be in a good mood when he finds out we found these." She nodded to the paintings in the back.

He gazed at her for a moment, then hesitated before leaning closer and kissing her softly.

For a split second, Sarah didn't respond. She was too shocked to feel Sam's lips against hers again. She recovered quickly, however, kissing him back and curling her fingers into his shirtfront gently.

"I've really missed you," he admitted, leaning his head against hers when the kiss ended.

Touching Sam's cheek softly, she said, "I've missed you too. You just have no idea." She pulled back and beamed at him. She couldn't believe any of this was happening. That he was telling her the things she'd only dreamed about.

Sam gazed at her silently for a few moments. "This is a dangerous lifestyle," he said quietly.

She smiled wryly. "So I've gathered, but anything's more dangerous than my miserable existence right now... but Sam, I'm willing to risk it if you are." Her eyes her lit with hope, something she hadn't had in a long time.

"I'm not taking back the offer," he promised.

"Good, because I'll do what I have to so I can come along." Smiling, she slid out of the car and grabbed one of the paintings. She felt light on her feet, as happy as she was.

A faint smile on his face, Sam followed, grabbing the other painting and following her toward the entrance.

Trying to push the door open, Sarah laughed. "Do you think Chloe and Dean are still here?" She'd forgotten in all the excitement that the thought of the two of them still holding that little gnome was kinda silly.

"Probably." He smirked as he recalled the look on his brother's face when Chloe grabbed the gnome.

Fortunately, her father was still nowhere to be seen, so it was pretty easy putting the paintings back where they belonged. Moving upstairs, they went to rescue Sam's brother and Chloe from who knows what from holding the gnome. She opened the door and sucked in her breath when she found her dad's office in complete disarray.

"What the hell?" Sam asked in alarm, his eyes wide.

"My thoughts exactly," Sarah replied, moving into the room and looking around helplessly. "Wait, where are Chloe and Dean?"

Feeling even more unsettled, Sam looked around before heading to the closet and pulling the door open, startled to see his brother holding Chloe on his lap as they kissed. "Guess they weren't in any danger," he said wryly.

The brightness of the open door startled Dean, who had been consumed with kissing Chloe to get her to believe him. Breaking their kiss, he looked up to find Sam and Sarah standing at the door, wearing startled and amused expressions. "What the hell?" he said in confusion.

"I could say the same thing," Sam retorted, giving him a look. 

Chloe slowly pulled away from Dean, her face flushed. "There were... gnomes," she said vaguely.

A shadow crossed Sarah's features. "Wait... the gnomes were here?" She looked up at Sam in concern.

"Yeah, gnomes, Sammy," Dean replied, glaring at his brother. He stood up close behind Chloe, still aware of her body so close to his.

"Lots of them... everywhere." 

Sam raised an eyebrow looking slightly unconvinced. "Okay, so where are they now?"

Peeking around Chloe, Dean looked around the totally trashed room. "Not here, apparently." He smirked at his brother and put his hands on Chloe's shoulders.

Ignoring the unspoken conversation between the brothers, Sarah put a hand on Sam's jacket sleeve. "Do you think they went back to the warehouse?"

"It's possible. Which means it's only a matter of time before they realize we took the paintings back." 

"That's probably not going to make them very happy," Chloe said, not looking at anyone.

Sarah pulled Sam back so Chloe could move out of the closet. "What happened out here, anyway?" she asked, looking at Chloe.

"About fifty of them showed up out of nowhere. I guess they were trying to rescue their lost buddy."

"Oh crap," Sarah replied, her gaze growing dark. "When we found the paintings... none of those little suckers were around."

Dean frowned. "What, you mean you two got the easy job?"

"Yeah, it seems like you suffered a lot," Sam retorted, smirking at his brother.

Dean shot Sam a look that told of the ass kicking he'd get when the girls weren't around. "Shut it, Sam," he warned, seeing Chloe turn several shades of red.

He resisted the urge to chuckle. "We should probably figure out how to get rid of these things...or at least keep them away from here."

"Especially if they can do... this," Sarah said, crouching down to pick up the papers strewn all over the room.

Chloe looked around and began to help Sarah collect the scattered things. "Which begs the question... why are they after artwork in the first place?" 

Sam fell silent at that, leaning against the door with a puzzled expression.

Dean looked at his brother, just as confused as the rest of them. "Guess it's time for you to have your way with your laptop," he whispered to Sam.

Sam made a face. "Right. I'm gonna head back to the hotel." He glanced at Sarah.

Standing up and looking around, she mustered a sad smile. "I'll meet up with you there, okay? I really gotta get... some things taken care of." She looked at him pointedly.

Raising his eyebrows, Dean saw the look his brother and Sarah gave each other. "I miss something?" he asked innocently.

Chloe looked between them as well. 

Sam regarded his brother with a blank expression. "When do you not?" he replied with a smirk, heading out the door and leaving them to stare after him.

"Okay, awkward," Dean grumbled under his breath, turning to look at the girls. Sarah, in particular, who was watching Sam walk away with a strange look on her face.

When she became aware of Dean's gaze, Sarah turned and glared at him. "You gonna stare or help us clean up?"

&&&&&

Sam had no sooner started the Impala’s engine than he spotted his brother moving toward the car. Raising an eyebrow, he shrugged and watched as Dean climbed in the passenger side.

Slamming the door, he looked over at Sam and said, "What? You thought I was gonna help the girls clean up that mess?" He saw Sam didn't buy his excuse to leave so he shrugged. "Dude, just... drive, okay?"

Shrugging once more, he shifted the car into gear and drove them back toward the motel in relative silence.

Dean shifted uncomfortably in the seat. For one, he wasn't used to sitting in the passenger seat in his own car. Secondly, Sam was quiet. Too quiet. "You're being very... un-Samlike, Sammy," he commented as they pulled into the hotel parking lot.

"I asked Sarah to come with us," he said quietly, not looking at his brother.

Slanting his eyes towards his brother, he stifled a knowing smile. He knew, deep down, that Sam had always regretted leaving Sarah behind the first time. No, he had never mentioned her, not even when Dean himself brought her up, but there was something in Sam's eyes as they had left New York all those months ago that told him Sarah had always been on his mind. "Good," he replied with a small smirk and got out of the car.

Sam stared after Dean wide-eyed. That wasn't the response he'd been expecting. He'd been prepared for a heated argument. "What?"

"What, you were expecting me to gripe about that?" he asked, unlocking the door and going inside.

"Well... yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck, following Dean into the room.

With a wide smile, Dean crashed on his bed and stretched out, putting his hands behind his head. "Look, dude, I know you've been missing her since we left last time." When he saw Sam give him an uncertain look, he sat look. "Why did you ask her?"

"Because..." He shifted uncomfortably as he moved to sit at his computer. "...I didn't wanna leave her behind again."

"What, uh... was her response?" Based on the look that passed between Sarah and his brother, he guessed that things were probably a little bit up in the air.

"She's not sure," Sam said after a moment, booting up his laptop.

While he frowned a little, Dean understood why she might have doubts. It was dangerous, their lifestyle. He thought about Chloe and what she'd been through, just from that psychotic preacher he wished he'd killed when he had the chance. "She thinks it's too dangerous," he said in a low voice.

"Yeah, to tell her dad she's leaving with us," Sam answered wryly, knowing Sarah wasn't afraid of what was out there.

Dean cringed. "Yeah, I bet talking with Chuckles there is gonna be a real treat." He stared at the back of Sam's head, which was slightly bowed over the computer. "Seriously, dude, what's your deal? She's going to come with us. Yay for you... so what's with the face?"

He was silent for a moment, already starting his research. "Look at what's happened to Chloe since she's been with us."

"Yeah, but I doubt you'd have asked Sarah to come with us if you didn't think she couldn't handle it." Dean didn't need to be told how fragile Chloe had become, but he knew she had many of those issues when she'd met them. It was that preacher, he thought. That damn preacher. He stood up and started pacing around the room.

"You're right," he admitted, gazing at the computer screen. "I care about her. A lot."

"Well, I care about Chloe," he whispered. "Why not keep them with us if we care about them?"

"You think they're better off with us or without us?" Sam asked quietly, looking at his brother.

Dean froze in his tracks at Sam's hesitant question. Oh, what a loaded question, he thought. It wasn't like he hadn't thought about this before. Had wondered quite a lot if Chloe would be better without him. Looking down at his feet, he whispered, "Dunno, Sammy." All I know is I'm miserable without her, he thought.

He gazed at his brother, the question lying between them, unanswered. And wondered if they would ever know.

&&&&&

With Chloe's help, Sarah had managed to get her father's office put back together before he had gotten there. They managed to sneak out of the auction house before anyone saw them. "Want a ride back to the hotel?" she asked the blonde, who hadn't said much since Dean took off. 

"If you don't mind." She didn't want to interrupt the research. She rolled her eyes at herself. Like that was why she wasn't calling the guys for a ride. 

Without a comment, Sarah led Chloe to her car and watched her get into the passenger side. It was awkward, being around someone who was very quiet but looked like she could talk about nearly everything. "So... I guess I should say something, but... I haven't a clue what to say except... thank you for your help." 

She smiled faintly and looked sideways at Sarah. "No problem. I know this...is probably kinda weird, me being here and everything." 

"It's only weird that you're so... quiet," she remarked, shooting her a thankful look. "It's nice to have another girl around. The testosterone level can get high between those two." She turned on the car engine and drove it out of the auction house. 

"Tell me about it," she said wryly. 

Sneaking a look at Chloe, she whispered, "They pretty much like this... all the time?" 

"Oh, they're worse. I've had to break up fights more than once and I've only been riding with them for like...three weeks." 

"Great." She sighed softly and smiled. "At least now you'll have some help with that." 

Chloe's eyebrows furrowed. "What?" 

The hotel parking lot appeared way too soon, she thought, pulling in and parking next to the Impala. Shutting off the engine, she sat back and looked at her passenger, who was wearing a shocked, wide-eyed expression. "Sam wants me to go with you guys." She looked away, not able to look into the blonde's eyes. 

The words didn't surprise her as much as they probably should have. "He likes you a lot." 

She smiled. "I really think he does," she said, the memory of Sam's kiss still lingering in her mind. "Dean seems pretty keen on you, Chloe." 

She flinched a little and looked out the window. "Yeah," she murmured. 

Yikes, she thought, pulling her eyes to stare at the Winchesters' hotel room. "I'm sorry," she whispered, feeling intensely awkward. "I just meant... I guess I'll shut up now." 

"No, it's fine, Sarah," she said quietly. "Things are just... complicated." 

"When aren't they?" she said out loud, thinking about her future with Sam after she told her father of her intention to take off with them and maybe... never come back. "I think... it might be good for both of us. You know, to have another girl around." 

A faint smile tugged at Chloe's lips and she looked sideways at Sarah. "Yeah. I think so." 

Sarah smiled at Chloe brightly. "Good. You... ready to get back in there with Ren and Stimpy?" Her eyes twinkled with excitement at the thought of seeing Sam again. 

Chloe laughed out loud at the other woman's comparison. "Ren and Stimpy or Beevis and Butthead?" she joked, climbing out of the car. 

"I guess it depends on the day," she replied with a cheesy grin, getting out of her car and following Chloe to the hotel door. 

Drawing in a breath, she knocked on the door and waited for one of the brothers to answer it. 

Dean heard the pounding and didn't want to answer the door, except that it sounded like it might be Chloe and Sarah. Seeing Sam deep in research mode, he mumbled, "Sure, Sam, I'll get the door." Standing up, he walked to the door and pulled it open. Sure enough, he found the girls on the other side of the door, wearing slightly amused grins. 

"Find anything?" Chloe asked, not quite meeting his eyes. 

"You'll have to ask Brainiac over there," he replied, thumbing towards Sam, who was still buried in his laptop.

Crossing her arms, Sarah cocked an eyebrow at Dean. "You two have a real issue with not letting us in, don't you?" 

Chloe smirked and moved around him easily, moving to sit on the edge of the bed nearest Sam. "Anything?" 

"I think I might be onto something," he murmured. 

Sarah brushed past Dean and lurked in the shadows in the corner of the room, biting her nail anxiously. She wasn't looking forward to her chat with Dad, she realized. As much as she wanted to be with Sam, it wasn't going to be easy convincing her father that leaving would be a good thing.

"Sam, your girl's got a smart mouth," Dean remarked, taking his spot on his bed again, avoiding Chloe since he was pretty sure she didn't want him around. 

"Someone's gotta keep you in line, Dean," he retorted, not looking up. 

"What, that's not your job anymore?" he remarked sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Sarah bit back a smile as she looked down. "Need any help, Sam?" she asked softly. 

"Mandrake Root," he said suddenly, looking over at her. 

Chloe's eyebrows furrowed. 

"Mandrake root?" Dean asked, sitting up suddenly. "You intend to poison them, then?"

Sarah just nodded, never taking her eyes, still slightly anxious, off Sam's. She didn't want to say anything until she had a chance to hear what he had to say. 

"No... I mean, other than theft… they haven't hurt anyone. They seem to be more mischievous than anything. Mandrake root stops them from teleporting... and if they can't teleport... they can't get into a locked building... or make off with large paintings." 

"So basically, if we planted this around the auction house... they'd leave the place alone?" Sarah asked, her face fearful yet hopeful. 

"I think so," he said, nodding a little. 

Chloe chewed on her lower lip. "That seems easy enough." 

"So... we just have to buy these plants and put them into the ground?" Dean asked, clearly surprised that the solution was that easy. 

"Might wanna add a couple around the inside too, just to be sure, but yeah." Sam shrugged. 

Looking away from Sam and the others, Sarah whispered, "I, uh, know where we can get some plants." 

Chloe grinned. "You are so coming with us," she replied. "Where do we find it?" 

Sarah blinked in surprise at the blonde's outburst, though she smiled brightly. "I happen to know a greenhouse not too far from my house that deals in... rarer plants, so to speak." She looked shyly at Sam. 

Sam smiled at her as well, his eyes twinkling. "Well, let's head." 

Dean smiled at the look on his brother's face, knowing he hadn't been this happy since... He snuck a glance at Chloe, who had said very little and looked just as pale as he had when she'd been in his arms.

Her lips parting into a wide grin, Sarah nodded. "It's a bit of a drive from here. Think Dean could handle life with the Impala for awhile?" 

"I don't think it'll take four of us to go get it." Sam rose to his feet. "We'll go get it and plant it around the auction house." 

"You put a scratch on the Impala..." Dean started, shooting Sam that 'look' as he watched his brother follow Sarah out the door.

"Yeah, you and I can get this done by nightfall," she said, throwing a smile back at Chloe and Dean before disappearing out the door. 

Chloe swallowed hard, realizing Sam had made that decision as much to make sure she and Dean had a chance to talk as he did to be alone with Sarah. 

Dean watched the hotel door shut behind his brother and sighed inwardly. The last time he was alone with Chloe, he'd said and done things... He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Awkward," he muttered to himself, his back to her. 

She bit her lower lip, feeling vulnerable and exposed. He knew things about her now that she'd never wanted anyone to know. She wound her arms around herself and remained silent. 

He didn't know how long they sat there, the space between them growing with each shared breath. Dean could actually feel it, and it hurt more than he wanted to admit. He'd told her how he felt, and... he still didn't know how she felt. Probably nothing, he thought, shifting his foot a little on the floor. "You needed to tell me those things," he said finally. 

Chloe cringed a little, looking down at the floor. "I don't know what came over me." 

He bit back a sarcastic remark, because he thought it would force her away from him. "I hope it comes over you again soon, then." He looked down and smirked grimly. How was it she made him almost welcome chick flick moments? 

"I thought you hated chick flick moments." 

"Sam's rubbing off on you, Chloe," he replied with a smirk, turning around to look at her. 

She met his gaze and held it. "How so?" 

"I do hate chick flick moments, and yet... I can sorta handle it around the people I... you know..." He stared at her pointedly. 

"Care about," she murmured. 

Dean nodded, his eyes going soft looking at her. "That includes you, ya know." He stood up and walked over to her, sitting down next to her. 

Chloe nodded slightly, reluctantly accepting that. She tucked some hair behind her ear. "Ditto," she whispered. 

Clearing his throat, Dean asked, "So how about Sarah coming with us, huh? About time Sammy got some." 

She winced a little at his words, immediately thinking of Clark. "Yeah. Isn't that what guys are all about?" she asked bitterly, rising to her feet. 

Dean grunted in frustration. "Nice work, dummy," he muttered inaudibly, watching her start to pace the room. "Company, I was talking about... some company," he finished lamely. "Look, we're not all about that. God knows Sam isn't." 

"You sure he isn't gay?" she responded, not looking at him. 

"Hell no, he's not gay," Dean replied with an amused smile. "If you could have seen him with his ex-girlfriend, you'd know. He's just... sensitive." As much as he hated that word, Dean had to admit that, in Sam's case, it was true. 

"Those are the ones you have to watch out for," she murmured, thinking of both Jimmy and Clark and feeling another headache coming on. 

"Aren't you glad I'm not like that, then," he murmured, looking at her slumping shoulders and knowing she was tired. Of everything. Maybe of him. "Sam's a good guy, and he's not going to hurt you. Hell, I won't either, even though I probably already have." 

"You haven't," Chloe said quietly, shutting her eyes. 

Darkness clouded his eyes. "You can't tell me that I haven't totally confused you, made you crazy, and made you run away?" 

She reluctantly turned to face him. "The first, maybe," she admitted softly, her voice honest. 

"Sam should have never... You shouldn't have known," he muttered, berating himself for not telling his brother to keep his mouth shut about certain things. He stood up and began pacing around the room. 

"Yeah, well I kinda suspected before he said anything." 

Dean was speechless, though he didn't stop his pacing. "Look, I can't help what I feel, okay? It's not like you can turn this... stuff... off. I didn't want you to know that... because I just knew you... I mean..." He tried several times to explain what was going on in his mind but couldn't. Bad enough that Sam told his secret: worse that Chloe kinda knew to begin with. 

"Dean, it's okay," she whispered, watching him pace and feeling weary. "Believe me, I understand." She looked down at the floor. "If it'd be easier... I can be gone by morning." 

He stopped right in front of her and dropped to his knees, suddenly weary. "Don't leave," he said in a flat voice, putting his head into her lap. He suddenly knew the answer to Sam's question: she'd probably be better off without him, but he sure couldn't take living without her. 

Chloe was startled by his actions and slid her arms around him without thinking about it. It was just instinct. She closed her eyes, resting her head on top of his, her fingers gently rubbing the back of his neck, another unconscious act. "Okay," she whispered. 

Looping his arms around her waist, Dean sat there, his head pressing into her stomach, letting her hold and touch him. He was enclosed by her presence and for the first time felt like they had connected somehow. "Good," he murmured, closing his eyes and willing himself to stay there for as long as she let him. 

"I do care about you," Chloe murmured, not pulling away. 

He heard her words but didn't believe them. He didn't know if she really did: up until this moment, she had run away from him in some form or fashion. "Then why this talk of leaving?" he whispered, pulling her closer to him. 

She was quiet for a moment. "Have you ever been hurt so bad you didn't think you could ever possibly recover?" she asked in an almost inaudible voice. 

Sliding his head up from her lap, he looked her in the eye. "Yes." He thought of losing his mother when he was four... his father only mere weeks ago... Yeah, he knew what it was like to hurt. "I'm an orphan now, remember?" He tried to smile but couldn't. The shattered look on her face spoke volumes of hurt to him. 

Tears prickled at her eyes. "But your parents loved you, right?" 

He gently touched her cheek. "I guess so," he whispered with a frown. 

"Imagine... spending every waking moment thinking about how much you loved someone and knowing they would never love you back." She swallowed hard. "And then imagine, hearing them say it and later apologize for lying." 

A kind of numbed shock crossed Dean's features, furrowing his brow as he gazed at her devastated face. "If I ever come across this guy, he's dead," he swore underneath his breath. Because he had never loved someone enough until now to remotely understand what she'd been going through. 

"He wasn't himself when he said it, but..." She swallowed hard, tears still stinging her eyes. 

He blinked back the frustration he felt. "Doesn't make it any easier," he said in as evenly a tone as possible. Taking a deep breath, he whispered, "When? When did he...?" He couldn't bring himself to even finish his question: he was that afraid of the answer. 

"He was under the influence," she murmured, diverting her eyes. "And I should've known better." 

Clenching his fists, Dean pulled himself upright again and lifted her chin to make him look at her. "Who was it, Chloe?" he asked softly. 

"Clark," she admitted in a whisper, reluctantly meeting his gaze. 

A shudder of anger went through his body, making him literally quake. "Bastard," he muttered, not breaking her eye contact. "He deserves to die for what he did." Dean literally thought he saw red from the anger and hatred he felt for this loser who had abused his girl. 

She shook her head very slightly. "Most of the time he's a good guy, but... under certain circumstances..." Her jaw tightened a little. "Mostly involving a pretty brunette..." 

Muttering a string of curses under his breath, Dean stood up and, taking Chloe's hands, pulled her into his arms tightly, tucking her into his warmth as if to take her burden off her shoulders. "Brunettes are highly overrated," he growled in her ear, absently kissing her cheek as he spoke. 

She shut her eyes, letting him hold onto her tightly. Like he was her lifeline. And maybe he was. Maybe he was the only one standing between her and a downward spiral off a cliff. 

&&&&&

"Sammy!" Dean yelled, grabbing his bag and shoving his things into it. "Dude, you about ready?" Not that they had anyplace urgent to be, but they had to pick up Sarah on their way out of town.

"Coming!" Sam called from the bathroom, checking himself in the mirror, wanting to look his best for Sarah. Suddenly he heard his cell chirping, so he pulled it out of his pocket... and immediately flipped it open. "Missouri?" he asked anxiously. 

"Hello, Sam. How are ya, boy?" 

"Fine, ma'am," he said, knowing she'd probably catch him in a lie. 

"Uh huh. So what's this on my machine about a brainwashing cult hurting a friend of yours?" 

Sam blinked. "Yeah, Dean and I need your help. See, there's..." He stopped and sighed, knowing she didn't like to beat around the bush. "Chloe's been brainwashed by a preacher and is suffering from PTSD, I think. Can you help?" 

Missouri was silent for a moment. "I'll need you to bring her here." 

"Okay, we can be there in a couple days." Sooner, if Dean had anything to say to it, he thought sadly, sneaking a look at his brother, who had started packing Sam's bag, obviously impatient to leave. 

"I'll see you soon then." 

"Thanks Missouri," Sam said and closed the phone. Leaving the bathroom, he looked at Dean with an uncertain look.

"About time," Dean growled, throwing Sam's bag at him. "Never tell me what you were doing..." 

"Missouri called," Sam told him without hesitation. 

Dean looked at Sam seriously. "Think she can help her?" he asked, glancing at Chloe's door. 

"Sounds like it. She said bring Chloe to her." He paused, glancing in the same direction. 

Striding to the connecting door between their rooms, Dean said, "So let's go. Is Sarah still coming with us?" 

"Yeah. Dean, hold up." Sam looked at his brother. "Somehow I don't think she's gonna be thrilled to hear we're heading back to Kansas." 

He took his hand off the doorknob. "Wait, we have to take Chloe to Missouri?" he asked, a little incredulous. "Why can't she meet us somewhere?" Sam was right about one thing: if Chloe knew they might return to Kansas, she would run. Fast and away from them. 

"I don't know, Dean. She just said bring her and I said okay." 

"For a college boy, you sure forget how to ask questions." Dean looked down and thought for a long moment. "We're gonna have to lie to her or something. Dammit." 

"Not necessarily." Sam drew in a breath. "We could just tell her Missouri found out about Dad... and she wants to see us." 

"Which, knowing Missouri, she probably knows something, anyway," he said with a grimace. 

"Probably. But if not... she needs to." He rubbed the back of his neck wearily. 

He hated it when Sam was right, but... he was right. They had to start dealing with Dad, though Dean didn't want to touch that issue with a ten foot pole. "Fine. Can I get Chloe, now?" he snapped a little. 

Sam gazed at him intently. "I'll be out in the car." He grabbed his bags and headed for the door. 

Knocking on the door, he opened it and peeked his head in. "Chloe, you ready to go?" he called, not seeing her within eye reach. He briefly wondered if the moment they'd shared the night before had scared her off again. His face fell at the mere thought. 

"Yeah." She emerged from the bathroom, looking ghostly pale. "I'm ready." 

The haunted look on her face downright scared him. "Chloe, what's wrong?" he asked, stepping into the room and across towards her. 

Chloe looked toward the connecting door. "Is Sam...?" 

"Sammy's outside waiting for us in the car," Dean said, taking her arms in his hands. "What's wrong?" 

Feeling vaguely nauseous, she couldn't meet his eyes. "I think..." 

Dean stood there, rubbing her arms gently in comfort. He had no idea what she was trying to say, so he waited for her to say something. 

"I'm late." Her voice was nearly inaudible. 

Dean stared at her for a moment, not comprehending what she was trying to tell him. Suddenly, it dawned on him what she was saying. "No," he whispered. "What? No..." He was at a complete loss of words. 

Swallowing hard, she remained motionless, her breathing shaky. 

Dean felt like he was the father, his hands shaking ever so slightly on her arms. What did this mean for her, he wondered, if....? He couldn't focus on any one thought, although... it suddenly occurred to him what Clark had done to hurt her like he had. "Goddammit," he growled, closing his eyes, the pain nearly blinding him. 

Chloe flinched a little, but somehow knew he wasn't angry with her. She leaned heavily against the table, resting her head in her hands. And wondering what the hell she was going to do.


End file.
